On our journey to Sikkim Desmond had withheld from my mother his real reason for the visit for him. We were all very friendly with the French Consul Monsieur Bernard and his Cultural Attache, Alain Werbrouck. Indeed the 14th July party was by far the best of the diplomatic 'dos' with delicious champagne and yummy nibbles. Back on track, a young hippy family had been dabbling in Buddhism, as was the style of the travellers of those days. They had a little boy who was recognised in the monastery as a reborn rimpoche. They agreed without thought to hand over the child and continued travelling. After a few years they returned to France, split up and the mother wanted her son back. Word was that the child was at Rumtek in Sikkim under the protection of the Karmappa Lama.
http://www.rumtek.org/mn/mn00.html
Desmond's plan was my mother, my sister and I would as a matter of course be taken to meet and be blessed by the Karmapa Lama and while this was happening he could look around and see if the child was there. We were also told to keep our eyes open as we were shown round the monastery to see if we could spot a blonde, blue eyed little lama.
Chogyal knew what Desmond was doing, it was not in his interest to have a diplomatic incident with the French that India would jump at coming in to solve. However, the Karmapa Lama is a very high lama indeed and Chogyal as an ex lama and devout Buddhist could do nothing overtly to even admit the child was in Sikkim. Hence the mission. Desmond was trusted by the French and of course by the Tibetans and the Sikkimese - a perfect negotiator.
We arrived at Rumtek - a most beautiful monastery just outside Gangtok and were duly taken to be blessed and given butter tea with the Karmapa Lama. He wanted to talk to Desmond, who had fingers in many pies, and so we were dismissed to explore the monastery with a guide.
As you can see there was rather a lot to see and childlike I soon got tired. I wish now I had looked harder; many, many exquisite and precious Tibetan works of art had been taken to the monastery when the Karmappa had taken up his residence in exile there. Never forget with a story of this nature the complexities of national identities and cultures. Tibetans were not allowed any form of passport, only refugee status. The border with China was close and India in my lifetime, had fought two wars against the Chinese. It was such a sensitive area and the high lamas were at great risk: the second holiest incarnate lama, the Panchen was living in China as a private citizen and also as the Chinese ace card in the hand in matters of religion in a theocracy.
Against this delicate background my darling mother decided to take matters into her own hands: Desla was obviously going to be kept in lengthy discussions, probably on purpose, so she asked our lama guide if there were any other foreign children in the monastery. Subtle she was not! He smiled very happily and beckoned us, " Come, come." There was an unmistakable swagger in her step as we followed him up flight after flight of stairs until we reached the roof of the building. He smiled again, "This way, come, come." And he pulled back a thin saffron curtain.
We were expecting a small fair French boy, what we saw was a very large annila (Buddhist nun) who was clearly neither Tibetan nor Indian. She was seated on mounds of cushions with beautiful thankas and images of the Buddha and incarnate lamas lit by butter lamps. She was in the full regalia of an annila, russet and saffron robes, bald head with her prayer wheel by her side and a large window that looked beyond the monastery to the valley below.
Never one to be overset by the unexpected my mother smiled her enchanting smile and said, "My dear, what are you doing here?" It is easier and will give you more clarity if simply give you her entry in Wikipedia cut and pasted below. That initial question was the start of a very long conversation most of which I did not understand. What I did understand was the her name was Frida Bedi.
In the 1930s, she moved to India. She participated in the Indian national independence movement and was arrested and detained with her children along with Gandhi as a satyagrahi. In 1952, she visited Rangoon where she learned vipassana from Mahasi Sayadaw, and Sayadaw U Titthila. In 1959, when the 14th Dalai Lama arrived in India along with thousands of Tibetans, she was asked by Nehru to help them and she was in charge of the Social Welfare Board. She dedicated her self to social activity and, she followed the guidance of the 16th Karmapa of the Kagyu School. She was the principal of the school for the young tulkus (including Chogyam Trungpa and Thubten Zopa Rinpoche) established by the Dalai Lama in Delhi and then in Dalhousie. In 1963, with Lama Karma Thinley Rinpoche and under the guidance of the Karmapa, she founded the Karma Drubgyud Darje Ling nunnery for Tibetan women in northern India. After the young tulkus' school stopped, Bedi went toRumtek in Sikkim, the seat of the Karmapa in exile. In 1966, she took sramaneri ordination by the Karmapa, and was given the name Gelongma Karma Kechog Palmo. She was the first Western woman to take ordination inTibetan Buddhism. In 1972, she took full bhikshuni ordination in Hong Kong. She accompanied the Karmapa on his first visit to the West in 1974. In 1971, a book she had written was published by Lama Anagarika Govinda's Arya Maitreya Mandala in Germany. She died in Sikkim, or in New Delhi,[2] in 1977.
These two women, so different in outlook, and lifestyle became extremely good friends. Cemented by the fact the Frida's weak spot was chocolate and cake. It just so happened that Hopela had a fondness for the cheese made by the Swiss Fathers in Kalimpong, so one a month my mother would send two food parcels to Sikkim: one to the palace containing cheese and the other to Rumtek Monastery containing Flurys' chocolates and cake. In fact the cake had to also be added to Hopelas parcel after she tasted it on visit to the monastery.
The one punishment that I dreaded being mentioned was that I would be sent to Frida at her school for young nuns to learn about spirituality and self discipline. She informed my mother by letter many times that she thought both I and my sister would benefit enormously from such an experience. We may have laughed but there was always an uneasy feeling. Frida had extraordinary eyes that looked into your soul and, I have to admit, scared me more than a little.
Back on the day at Rumtek a breathless young lama appeared at the door and with shusshing and whispering they both turned to us, "Come, come quickly", our lama said looking most concerned. We made our farewells to Frida and were given her blessing and a scarf.
Down the stairs we went, wondering if Desmond had found the boy and we were being thrown out of the monastery in disgrace. At the entrance stood an incandescent Irishman, his normally warm blue eyes like chips of ice. As we neared him he turned on his heel and got into one of the waiting jeeps. Mum joined him and we were left to take the second. All the way back to Gangtok my sister and kept repeating, "My dear," and falling helplessly about with laughter. "Only Mum," she said, "only Mum could walk in to that room and behave as if she was meeting someone at cocktail party." And we laughed until we cried.
In the other jeep, I was reliably informed, there was icy silence. Finally Desmond turned to my mother and said, 'Bitch!" She took this as it was meant, a sign that they could talk. He was cross and fed up because everybody had got the whole situation wrong. The little boy was there - with his mother! Desla had met them both and all was well. He had then dismissed by the Karmapa Lama and went to see if he could find us. He had to wait over two hours. Mum didn't improve things with her tale of her new friend. Desmond was supposed to be the one to find the interesting people. By the time we all got back to the guest lodge they were screaming diabolical insults at one another and Janie and I could hardly speak for giggles. Every time they stopped for breath one or the other of us would say, "My Dear!" And the whole thing would kick off again. Such fun.
PS Do not click on Wikipedia and expect to be taken to more on the mountains - it is just an general html link - and Lily Allen has absolutely nothing to do with the story.
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